


Don't It Go To Show (You Never Know)

by lyricalnights



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalnights/pseuds/lyricalnights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm reposting some of my old (very old) Harry Potter fic so it will all be together in one place. This was written for the Gardner's Delight Neville FQF some time in 2003. Canon compliant through GoF only.</p>
<p>Challenge: Scenario Challenge #59, Neville finds a talking plant. How does it bring him and another character together?</p>
<p>Thanks to my beta and support system, RedLotus. This fic was inspired by the songs "Don't It Go to Show" and "Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors, with nods to Douglas Adams and The Princess Bride. Yes, I mentioned certain herbs for a reason; go look them up. =)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Don't It Go To Show (You Never Know)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting some of my old (very old) Harry Potter fic so it will all be together in one place. This was written for the Gardner's Delight Neville FQF some time in 2003. Canon compliant through GoF only.
> 
> Challenge: Scenario Challenge #59, Neville finds a talking plant. How does it bring him and another character together?
> 
> Thanks to my beta and support system, RedLotus. This fic was inspired by the songs "Don't It Go to Show" and "Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors, with nods to Douglas Adams and The Princess Bride. Yes, I mentioned certain herbs for a reason; go look them up. =)

Neville whistled tunelessly as he shifted plants back and forth across the open courtyard in back of Horatio's Herbarium, breaking his contented white noise only with the faint sound of grunts and curses as the more unruly of the plants protested his disruption of their afternoon naps. Though most of the plants Horatio's sold out front were harmless and seen throughout the Muggle world, some of the ones kept in the protected rear section were, to say the least, exotic, and not a few came armed with a variety of pincers, sucking mouths and sharp teeth.

"Here, now, " Neville admonished a particularly nasty biting shrub, "there's no call for that sort of thing. I'm just trying to get you into the shade so you don't fry. Some thanks I get."

"Neville," sounded a low-pitched feminine voice through the doorway, "I believe this customer needs your expertise. Do quit arguing with the foliage and come help him."

"Coming, Miss Harriet," Neville called, hastily wiping his grimy hands on a scrap of worn handkerchief before tucking it into the back pocket of his sturdy work trousers.

He hurried toward the front of the courtyard as a young man stepped out into the late May sunshine that spilled over the high walls. Neville spared a moment to notice that, despite his obvious youth, the man had the authoritative stride of a person born to lead and command attention.

"Hello, sir, how may I help...why, Harry!" Neville stopped short in surprise as he recognized that his old classmate and object of hero-worship stood before him.

Harry squinted for a moment, showing the unnaturally deep grooves of scars and worry lines that crossed his face and drew people's eyes upwards to the famous lightning bolt.

"Neville," he finally said in a startled tone, "is it really you? What are you doing here?"

"Communing with my plants as everyone always suspected I would, Harry," Neville said. "The real question is what are you doing here, in this little out-of-the-way herbarium?"

Harry licked his lips and smiled tentatively, as though he had almost forgotten how it was done. "I'm in need of an expert herbologist like yourself, Nev. I've taken control of my parent's old home in Godric's Hollow and I'm trying to set it to rights. I've had the cottage reconstructed, but the gardens are quite wild and beyond my skill. The neighbours told me the assistant at Horatio's has a talent for dealing with difficult plants; I should have known it would be you."

"When you say they've gone wild, do you mean overgrown, or…" Neville asked speculatively.

"Oh no, if it were that I'd take care of it myself. Everyone has always told me my mother was a dab hand with charms, but no one bothered to mention that she had a green thumb as well. I can't even identify half the things growing out there, and some of them seem dangerous. There's a creeping vine outside the kitchen window that talks, Neville, and it's really very cheeky. I think it tried to pinch my bum as I was doing the washing up this morning," Harry finished in an outraged tone.

Neville smothered a grin behind one square palm and offered Harry a sympathetic look. "Sounds like I need to come give your garden a thorough talking-to, starting with a lesson in manners."

"Would you?" Harry asked gratefully, "I'll pay you extra for having to trek all the way out to the house, of course."

"What are old school chums for, Harry?" Neville exclaimed, "It sounds like at least full day's job, but I'm free this Saturday, if that fits your schedule."

"Considering that I'm working from home these days, any time will fit my schedule," Harry said, "but I'll look forward to seeing you then. Maybe we'll have a little while to catch up on old times."

"That would be nice. Don't let the creeping vine molest you in the meantime," Neville said.

Harry chuckled before turning to go back inside the plant store. "I'll try my best, but I'm depending on you to defend my virtue from horny plant life. Just floo to Rose Cottage, Godric's Hollow. No need to owl ahead; I live alone."

"I'll see you then," Neville replied, noticing that Harry's posture seemed to crumple just a bit before his back straightened viciously and he left the courtyard.

As Neville went back to tending his cranky flowers and shrubs, he wondered to himself why Harry had seemed so sad at the end of their conversation.

*And why on this green earth were you flirting with him, Neville Longbottom, hmm? Think a war hero, even an old friend, would ever care for a grubby little gardener like you? * Despite nearly five years between the current day and his departure from Hogwarts, his inner voice still sounded remarkably like Professor Snape in all his snarky glory.

"Quiet, you," Neville told his inner Snape firmly, "I wasn't flirting; he's only my pal Harry, back from heaven knows where, and he just needs me to clean out his garden for him."

*Is that what they're calling it these days?*

Neville heaved a much put-upon sigh and continued detaching Tentacula feelers from his shirt.

*****************************

"Careful, Nev, that one almost got you," Harry called cheerfully from the open back door of his cottage. He picked up a glass from beside the sink and carefully filled it with water to the very brim before setting it in the center of the table before him.

"Hah, bloody hah, Potter," Neville groused as he nimbly avoided yet another set of snapping jaws and firmly clamped one arm around the rearing head of the giant Fly Trap. "You could get off your arse and help me, you know, seeing as it's your garden and all."

"I would never dream of coming between a man and his chosen profession. You just wrangle those fearsome ferns so well; I could never compete," Harry replied, seating himself in front of the glass and proceeding to stare at it as though searching for the answer to the One Great Question of Life.

"Fifty-four."

"I beg your pardon," Harry said.

"Since starting this 'little day project' for you three weeks ago, I have tamed, tied down, transplanted or otherwise occupied fifty-four separate species of dangerous plants, several of which I have never heard of or seen before my life," Neville remarked as he reached for the bread plate and jam pot. "I can't decide if your mother was a genius or a complete nutter, creating all of this stuff."

"I wonder that myself sometimes. Sirius gave me a pack of letters she and my dad had sent back and forth over holidays at Hogwarts; they were in such a hurry to hide from Voldemort that they left them in my dad's school trunk at Sirius's place. They were both such characters, all of that crowd, really." Harry sighed and glared at the water glass, reaching to steal the jam pot back from Neville with ease.

"Sod it, this is never going to work. I don't care what the Ministry says, wandless magic just takes too much effort. Now I have a headache and that bloody glass hasn't moved an inch."

Neville smiled inside to hear Harry talk of Sirius without the crushing bitterness that had characterized their first discussions of the subject. In the near-month that Neville and Harry had been working to clear his parent's incredibly overgrown and feral garden, they had also spent many afternoons sitting in this very kitchen, discussing all that had happened to them since leaving Hogwarts under the pall of the defeat of Voldemort, which had come at such a high price. Since confiding in Neville that Sirius had died slowly of a wasting curse thrown by Lucius Malfoy and that Sirius' death had torn him apart, Harry's tension had lessened to the point that Neville had even convinced him to go for a pint at the local pub once or twice. It wasn't healthy the way Harry kept himself cooped up in the cottage, working on his little Ministry projects, not for someone so young and handsome, who had always been so vibrant.

"Penny for your thoughts, Neville," Harry said softly.

"What? Oh, nothing important, I'm sure," Neville said, standing up quickly and rushing toward the door. His growing feelings for Harry beyond the realm of friendship were something he tried to keep firmly under wraps. "I had better get back to work; I'm starting to uncover a spectacular herb garden on the other side of the privet hedge with the fangs."

Harry stretched leisurely, allowing the smooth muscles in his back and shoulders to flex and twist under his thin cotton t-shirt. "In that case, I'll probably join you in a moment to see if there's anything useful that's survived twenty-odd years of neglect."

"As you wish," Neville said, willing his breath stay even and his heart to calm itself as Harry left the room, not to mention his shorts to stay quiescent. "See you in a few minutes then."

Neville pivoted quickly and almost smashed directly into the kitchen doorframe, causing the creeping vine with a definite crush on one Harry Potter to chatter excitedly. "Watch it there, boy, I'm trying to grow here."

"Terribly sorry," Neville said, attempting to stay on the rapacious thing's good side. Harry had insisted that it stay, only asking that Neville try to teach it not to feel him up during breakfast. Neville's success on this point was spotty at best, and the thing had a mouth like a sailor.

"I'll just bet you're sorry, aren't you, Mister Longbottom? Sorry you're looking at that gorgeous body every weekend, then flooing home to a cold bed and your right hand, I'd imagine. Not that I blame you." If it were possible for a plant to leer at person, that's what this one, which Neville had taken to calling Seamus after his and Harry's notoriously easy roommate, would be doing.

"You just watch your mouth, buddy, or I'll have you trimmed and bundled for the fire before you can say 'wisteria.' I don't want Harry hearing that kind of nonsense," Neville growled.

"Ooh, suddenly we have balls, talking to the greenery," the plant taunted, "why don't you get all aggressive with Harry then, you know he'd like it. You would too, pushing him against a wall for a kiss or getting him to spread you across that table like afternoon tea."

Speechless, Neville pushed past the cackling vine and out into the garden, determined to take out his frustration and annoyance on the ground and hopefully work out part of the lust that seemed to overwhelm him at the oddest moments lately. He knew well enough how he felt about Harry; the admiration he had held for Harry all his life, which had turned into attraction that day at the Herbarium, was quickly blossoming into something deeper, a true affection and possibility of love. He never dared to say anything to Harry, though, not knowing how the other man's preferences lay, or how he would react to such a statement. Harry had certainly remained friends with Ron, despite the latter's longstanding relationship with Oliver Wood, forged in the heat and terror of night-flying raids on Death Eater encampments. Still, having a close gay friend and having another male friend declare his undying love for you were two very different things. All in all, Neville preferred to leave things the way they were. No chance of getting hurt that way.

"So Nev, you know I was all but useless in Herbology, what have we got here?" Harry asked, dropping easily to the ground beside him and smiling in that easy way that just made people want to trust him.

"Well, this one here is rosemary, that's for remembrance, and it's tasty with lamb, as well. That over there is aloe; I figured you could send some of that to Charlie Weasley when it's a bit bigger. The leafy ones growing together are chamomile and heliotrope, and…"

******************************

"If I trip and fall, or get eaten by something nasty, I'm blaming it all on you, Nev."

"C'mon, don't be such a baby, Harry. I just want the final product of my literal blood, sweat and tears to be a surprise." Neville tugged at Harry's hand as he led the other man out the back door into the completely renovated garden.

"I should say it's a surprise; imagine, not letting me into my own garden all week. And I still don't know why you insisted on spending your one holiday week finishing this trash pit. I told you it could wait," Harry huffed impatiently as he shifted back and forth on his feet with his eyes closed tightly.

"All right then, Mr. Cranky, open your eyes."

Neville watched as Harry's eyelashes fluttered slowly, then snapped wide open as he took in the scene before him. "Oh, Neville, it's… it's…incredible. I can't believe you did this."

Harry had asked that the garden be made safe from all of his mother's strange forays into experimental botany, but hadn't really put much thought into making it functional or attractive in any way. However, Neville had decided that he couldn't waste the possibilities of the lovely garden, much less the precious chance to show Harry how he felt, even obliquely.

All of the dangerous shrubs and ferns had been removed or tamed, and the chastened few remaining snapped idly at the small birds and insects that whizzed through the air. Ropy climbing vines with hearty leaves trailed along the low, sturdy walls and twisted among the nodding trees. A lush carpet of grass was underfoot, broken by beds of flowers and herbs both decorative and suitable for use in potions and cooking. It bore little resemblance to the mess Harry had hired Neville to sort through two months ago, and it took his breath away.

"Happy birthday, Harry. Do you like it?" Neville asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Like it," Harry breathed, "I love it; it's amazing. I can't believe you would put so much effort into this. What on earth possessed you?"

Neville shrugged, trying his best to look nonchalant and professional. "I was just trying to give you my best work." He suspected his stammering tones didn't fit with the coolly casual image he wanted to project.

Harry turned and looked at him oddly, almost appraisingly. "Your best work is truly something special, Neville, just like you. I haven't ever thanked you properly for spending your time with me; I know I haven't always been the cheeriest of companions."

Neville flushed an even deeper shade of red as he waved away Harry's words and clung desperately to the control that kept him from flinging his arms around Harry then and there. "Now, Harry, you've been a great friend and I've enjoyed getting to know you again; getting to know you for the first time, really."

"So I'm a great friend, huh?" Harry asked. "Then I hope you'll remember that when I ask you to forgive me for this." With that statement, Harry stepped up to Neville and stretched a hand along his jaw, tilting his head up and bringing their lips together.

As they kissed, Neville felt Harry's hand slide upwards to his neck, and he settled his own arms loosely around Harry's waist. When they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, he could only stare at Harry in disbelief, wanting to capture this moment forever and terribly frightened that is was only a daydream.

"Harry," he finally gasped, "do you thank all of your workmen this way?"

"No," Harry chuckled, "only the ones that I want to strip naked and shag rotten in the garden. Does that mean you forgive me?"

Neville suddenly grinned at him, his blush receding to be replaced by a different kind of heat rising in his face, among other places. "Depends on how nicely you ask. I don't think one kiss makes a proper apology, especially since it was also the offense."

"Well, then, I shall have to convince you. I see you've included several shade trees in this fabulous garden you've redesigned. What say we go try one out?" Harry practically raced towards the privacy of spreading branches offered by one of the large trees, dragging Neville willingly behind him.

Behind them, they heard the creeping vine along the kitchen door giving its opinion of the matter. "About bloody time, is what I say. I consider myself solely responsible for this outcome, and don't you forget it young misters. You could at least have the decency to stay in my sightlines; give a stationary object a break, would you?"

~Fin~


End file.
